


a familiar terror

by aesphantasmal



Series: the magnus archives au [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast), The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: F/F, I just wanna sleep so this is what you get, M/M, Other, TMA AU, a number of drabbles tied together, brain said no sleep for me til I post this, hunt!vespa, it's 5am I forgot, nobody else is quite entity aligned enough to tag it, oh! there's some light stabbing, some hurt comfort I guess, stranger!nureyev
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24316069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesphantasmal/pseuds/aesphantasmal
Summary: a collection of very short drabbles from my tma au
Relationships: Buddy Aurinko/Vespa, Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Series: the magnus archives au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755451
Comments: 25
Kudos: 84





	a familiar terror

**Author's Note:**

> this one's barely even technically finished enjoy

When Buddy first spoke to the man with no name, she felt some instinct tugging at her, telling her to meet him in person. She hadn't immediately responded to it, but she had evaluated her evidence, and decided it was probably wise. Looking at him now, she was glad she had asked.

There was an unsettling perfection to the nameless thief. His skin was smooth — too smooth, like silk or plastic stretched over a human frame. She wasn't close enough to see, but she was reasonably certain if she looked close she may not see any pores. From what little Buddy could ascertain about the man, he had to be somewhere around forty. However, he showed none of the signs of ageing you'd expect, not a wrinkle or grey hair in sight. It made him look younger in such a way that if you had asked Buddy how old he was when she was looking at him, she would have found herself unable to give you a straight answer. His teeth were sharp and a perfect white, like you'd see in a toothpaste commercial somewhat lacking in subtlety. His eyes were slightly too bright, cheekbones a tad too sharp. And yet, even as she looked away for a second, she found her memory of his face blurring into every other face she'd ever seen.

He gave her a name to call him by, the lie rolling off his tongue as easily as anything else he'd said, but it tasted like sawdust in her mouth. "So, Ransom?"

"Yes?" There was a strange quality to his voice too, a little too melodic, lacking the natural roughness of human speech. There was something unnerving about the way he tapped on the table, too — too precise, too in time.

"You seem to be expecting me to take a lot of your resume on faith," she said. 

"Well, in our profession, an easily traced history seems more like a sign of incompetence than experience, unless being known is the goal."

"A reputation isn't a bad thing."

"Perhaps not, but I find simply aiming to avoid creating a reputation easier than attempting to control it for my own benefit." There was something else to him when he said that, something markedly different to the air of I Do Not Know You that "Ransom" seemed to emanate, though that air also confused and obscured whatever this other influence may be.

"So, you try and hide as much about yourself as you can."

"I find it useful for the way I operate."

"And yet." She turned to the next page in his resume, more for effect than because she needed to. "Juno Steel. A detective makes for an interesting choice of associate." She'd done her research on Juno Steel, of course. The lady left a considerable trail, and was rather distinctive, between the missing eye and the scars all over his face.

There's a twitch in the mask, a small flash of emotion before Ransom replief "Well, sometimes a somewhat different skill set is required to achieve what you need." He laughed, but the sound was hollow and false. 

Buddy kept looking back through Ransom's resume. It was light on detail, but it allowed her the time to consider what to do next.

Ideally, having seen what she can see before her, she would have spoken to Juno Steel first. Attempted to discern how much of what he knows (Knows? From distant observations, Buddy honestly can't tell) is true. Of course, that wasn't exactly a viable option before the conclusion of the interview.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, after the silence had lasted long enough to be classified as uncomfortable.

"Yes, I believe so. I just have one more question."

"Oh? Ask away."

Before Ransom could react, Buddy took the small blade hidden in her hand and slashed towards the thief. He jumped backwards, pushing his chair over with a loud c _rash,_ but not before the blade scraped across his arm.

For a second, everything was silent. Ransom had frozen completely still, clutching his arm tightly where the wound was. He watched Buddy as she sat down, slowly and deliberately, and looked at her knife.

On the blade was a small amount of blood. She could see some soaking into the fabric of Ransom's shirt, too.

"I'm sorry for that," Buddy said. Ransom's breathing was fast and shallow. "I'm not sure how much you know of the forces that shape our world, but you can't take too many risks." She pulled out a first aid kit from her bag, and pushed it across the table to where Ransom had been sitting. It was a few more seconds before Ransom took some deep breaths, picked his chair back up, and started bandaging his bleeding arm.

"I… understand the concern, I suppose. But I assure you that as far as I'm aware, I'm still human. At least, I'm not made of plastic or sawdust yet."

"I suppose I should also reassure you that I'm not a Hunter, although if I was this interaction would have gone very differently."

"I suppose so. My interactions with the Hunters have been limited."

"Hmm."  _ The Slaughter, then, perhaps? _ Buddy made a note of it in her mind, but remains silent as Ransom bandaged his wound. "How much do you know about the Entities, Ransom?"

"A fair amount, I suppose, though I don't make a habit to get close enough to learn much."

"Probably wise."

* * *

"Good morning! Good morning Mista Big Guy!"

Jet Siquiliak looked around before seeing the small woman approaching him.

"Good morning. I do not believe we have met."

"Oh!" She stuck out a hand. "I'm Rita! I'm Mista Steel's secretary and I know you've been watching him."

Jet stared at the small woman in surprise for a second.

"How did you know?" He asked.

"I mean, you don't really blend in, Mista Big Guy."

True, perhaps, but Jet had his practice blending in, and knew he was less noticeable than he had seemed. Besides, he was reasonably confident he hadn't been visible from Juno Steel's office. 

Though, there was plenty to suggest the Beholding didn't quite have a grip on her yet.

"Rita, what is my name?"

"I dunno, Mista Big Guy, you haven't told me."

Jet let out a sigh of relief.

* * *

Buddy had, in time, accepted the reality that Vespa Ilkay was dead.

She'd fallen too far to survive. And if she had survived, all that would have awaited her were a wide variety of fates worse than death.

Perhaps that was why it was more painful rather than relieving when Juno told her the assassin whose brain was swaddled by the Corruption had the name Vespa on her medical bracelet.

Buddy had her own experiences with the Corruption, of course. Every person in the Cerberus Province did. Given the state of Hyperion City's political system, it was entirely believable that the Corruption had simply seeped into every crack and pore and become part of the fabric of Mars. And it had burned its way into Buddy's skin, then into her organs, and she went from cutting her food into smaller pieces to only eating softer foods to only being able to eat soups to not even being able to keep that down and Jet dragged her away from the rooftop before she let the illness kill her.

The Corruption, Buddy had always felt, was highly opportunistic. It wasn't the first entity on Mars — The Beholding, The Lonely, and the Buried all seemed to have arrived before the Corruption. It didn't create the radiation that fed it so well here, either. It was already present, but as the first human to be exposed felt the first telltale prickling on their skin as it burned, the Corruption landed on Mars and lay down its roots.

There was something else there, too. The first time Buddy saw it it was a split second glimpse, and she could shake it from her mind.

The second time was less easy to dismiss. Buddy had seen the eyes of Hunters many times before. They were easy to pick out in the face of the woman she loved.

In the end, the scenario ended up being constructed unintentionally on Buddy's part. Vespa had vanished, but she knew where Buddy was. If she was truly lost to the Hunt, Buddy would never see her again. She tried to tell herself it would be for the best. If the woman she loved was no longer there, then there was no point in seeking closure that was not going to come.

However.

Deep down, Buddy couldn't let herself believe Vespa was gone. And it wasn't about what her despair may feed or thinking Vespa had to be too good for the powers that had seduced so many. It was simply instinct. So she went to that roof one final time, feeling her skin burning, and waited, in some faint hope that the universe won't betray her.

And it didn't.

Buddy and Vespa didn't let go of one another for a day after being reunited. It would have been a fatal mistake to even try, so nobody did. When eventually they pried their way out of each other's arms, they kept an eye on each other, too concerned about losing each other again to worry about what might benefit from that fear.

* * *

There was a strange feeling in the nameless thief's gut whenever he heard Juno sat his name.

It was like he very suddenly became aware of the rushing of his blood in his ears and the beating of his heart and the warmth of his own skin.

It was, he supposed, expected. Peter Nureyev was a human, after all. Were he a little closer to I Do Not Know You, he supposed, Peter Nureyev might just be a skin he could shed and wear at will. But when Juno says his name, he knows that's not what he wants.

Juno is smarter than he is. At first Nureyev had assumed the powers had simply ignored him like they did most people. But as he got to know Juno, he recognised the grip of multiple entities.

The first one he notices is I See You. What you'd expect from a detective, seeking terrible knowledge, but he swiftly realised that wasn't it — or it wasn't  _ just  _ that. Juno does not simply know for knowledge's sake. And Juno does not just  _ watch _ unless he has to.

He makes the connection to the detective's drive and pursuit of justice from afar. He's not a Hunter per se, but perhaps, if left to chase the same goal for long enough, he would find himself falling.

He didn't pay particular attention to the influence of Forsaken until it was too late. He didn't realise how tight his grip was until —

Well, he'd rather not think about that.

(He didn't think he'd appreciated the connection between the Vast and the Lonely until he'd reached across the expanse of that hotel bed and found it empty.)

There were more, he learned later, after everything. Juno told him what he had been through after Buddy explained everything, after he told Nureyev what he had seen in his head. And, even though Juno had yet to fall to anything, though he was still here, though Nureyev knew he didn't need it, Nureyev also knew he'd give anything to protect this lady. Even if it scared him. But he also knew he couldn't do that without talking to him, communicating, allowing Juno to see him. And, he realised, perhaps he wanted that more than he'd known.

And as he thought that, his heartbeat became stronger, his skin became the slightest bit warmer, and his body felt less like an ill fitting piece of clothing. It was strange, unnerving, almost, but as he felt Juno next to him, he realised he wasn't afraid.

**Author's Note:**

> comment or ill steal all ur left socks


End file.
